


Sealing The Deal

by Mackem



Category: Fake News RPF, The Daily Show
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:18:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tina Fey: 'I was at Second City in Chicago back in the day, and when I first got there I was a student and Colbert, and Steve Carell, were on the main stage...and one of the two, I will not say which one, was a notorious ladies' man. ...One of the two was very popular with the ladies.'</p>
<p>Jon Stewart: 'Here's what I believe: I believe both could be flirtatious, I believe Colbert could seal the deal.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sealing The Deal

Steve had just finished brushing his teeth, readying himself for his much-needed night's sleep, when his cellphone launched into its merry ringtone. During the day, the phone's bouncy jingle was chirpy; this late at night, it set his freshly-brushed teeth on edge. "Who the fuck?" he muttered vaguely to himself, spitting out a mouthful of minty foam.  
  
"Steve!" Nancy was already in bed, beautiful in her simple silk nightgown, propped up with pillows and reading in the dim light of the table lamp. She called through to the bathroom, an irritated edge to her voice. "Your cell is ringing!"  
  
"I know!" Steve called grouchily in return, hurriedly wiping his foamy mouth with the back of his hand as he jogged back into their cosy, welcoming bedroom, cursing the out-of-place grate of the ringtone. "I can _hear_ that it is. That's what it's _for_."  
  
"Not at half-past eleven at night," Nancy shot back smartly, marking her page with one delicate finger and giving him a glare. "Hurry up and answer it."  
  
"You know, you could have answered it," Steve muttered as he pawed through his discarded pants, cursing his inability to find the pocket that housed his phone in the mess of material. "You were closer than me."  
  
"It's not _my_ 'phone."  
  
"Then it's not _my_ fault if the kids wake up."  
  
"Just answer it already!" she sighed in exasperation, returning to her book as Steve located his troublesome phone.  
  
  
  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Steve?" Steve huffed in response to the familiar voice, dropping heavily onto the side of the bed with his head resting tiredly in his free hand.  
  
"Shit, I thought it was somebody important."  
  
"Wow, thanks!" Steve rolled his eyes in response to Stephen's laugh.  
  
"Hang on a second, I'll go downstairs. Everyone's in bed," he muttered pointedly. Ignoring Stephen's cheery response in favour of holding the phone away from his ear in mild exasperation, he gave Nancy an apologetic grimace. "I'll be in the living room. This might take awhile, honey, sorry."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Nancy smiled, irritation evidently soothed by Steve's obvious reluctance to leave. "Don't be too long...I was thinking, maybe tonight..." She gave Steve a flirtatious smile, laughing softly as he reluctantly trudged from their suddenly tempting bedroom.  
  
  
  
  
"Stephen, whatever this is, it had better be fucking important," Steve growled warningly, stopping himself from stamping downstairs only through fear of waking Elisabeth and John. The kids were hard enough to settle nowadays without having to deal with Stephen at the same time.  
  
"Did I wake you?" Stephen asked, his voice full of warm amusement as Steve padded into the living room. Shivering as he walked through the cold air in only a thin t-shirt and boxer shorts, he flicked on the light and stepped around discarded toys to collapse bonelessly onto the couch.  
  
"No," he sighed.  
  
"Then stop your fucking whining!" Steve huffed a reluctant laugh at Stephen's outburst, running a hand through his crazed hair. "It's only half-past 11, after all. I wanted to make sure your kids were asleep before I called."  
  
"So you could wake them up? Stephen, it's been a long day..."  
  
Stephen laughed softly. "Get your head out of your ass. Did you watch Jon today?"  
  
"You called to ask me about _television_?" Steve asked incredulously, near-snarling in frustration then rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Unfortunately, this transferred rather a lot of the residual toothpaste foam into his right eye. " _Shit!_ "  
  
"There's no need to sound so pissed off about it," Stephen replied, and Steve would have been a lot more pleased to hear the slight abashed tone to his voice if he had not been busy trying to blink minty-fresh fluoride from beneath his eyelid.  
  
"No, no, I got toothpaste in my eye," Steve grimaced, his blurry vision wavering as he stumbled irritably into his kitchen. "Don't say a fucking thing."  
  
"What kind of moron -"  
  
" - I _said_ not to say a fucking thing! It's your fault, anyway." He set the phone down and ran the faucet, scrubbing blessedly cool water into his eye and raising his voice to continue scolding Stephen. "Who the fuck calls at eleven-goddamn-thirty? Somebody calls at this time, I expect an emergency! I expect to at _least_ be told about a family injury!" He rinsed his mouth out, glad to be rid of the fuzzy taste of lingering toothpaste after spitting forcefully into the sink, then returned the phone to his ear.  
  
  
  
  
"Okay. I can see again. Now what the fuck do you want?" Steve grumbled lightly, settling himself on his leather couch. The impromptu face-wash had left him feeling somewhat more awake, not to mention relaxed after his irritated eye settled. What kind of moron _did_ manage to mint his eyes, anyway? He smiled instinctively with Stephen's amused tone.  
  
"Am I allowed to talk now? You're not planning on flossing your ears, or some other strange personal hygiene practice?"  
  
"It was an accident," Steve laughed, fiddling with a ragged edge on his underwear. "I was brushing my teeth when you called. Some of us like to have an early night," he added meaningfully.  
  
"You sometimes stayed awake all night, when you were younger," Stephen replied immediately, and Jesus, but there was that teasing tone in his voice that made Steve sit up and take notice. "Speaking of which, that's kind of why I called."  
  
"What's on your mind, Stephen Colbert?" Steve asked curiously, his voice dropping a little lower. "You mentioned Jon?"  
  
"Not Jon specifically. The show," Stephen corrected lightly, and Steve heard a rustle as he shifted. "Tina Fey was his guest. Didn't you catch it?"  
  
"Not tonight," Steve replied, his interest definitely piqued. "Why's that?"  
  
"We were mentioned." Steve rolled his eyes, relaxing.  
  
"Another gay joke?"  
  
"Actually, it was about Second City," Stephen murmured, practically purring, so honeyed was his tone. Steve found his eyes widening, his mind suddenly taken years back. "Apparently, one of us was a _notorious_ ladies' man."  
  
"One of us?" Steve questioned curiously, shifting against the now warmed, comforting leather of the couch. "She didn't specify?"  
  
"She said she couldn't possibly, but Jon guessed me." Steve laughed.  
  
"You _would_ say that, Colbert."  
  
"He did! He said you wouldn't be able to seal the deal," Stephen replied, and Steve could almost see his triumphant little grin.  
  
"You? Notorious ladies' man? If anything, you were a notorious lady _boy_ , so it must have been _me_ ," Steve smirked, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as Stephen sniffed haughtily.  
  
"Ladyboy? Go fuck yourself, I was a man, a manly man, full of...muscles, and semen. I had a beard, too."  
  
"Seems I recall you wearing a skirt, though," Steve smiled darkly, feeling himself dropping effortlessly into the roles he and Stephen loved to adopt. Antagonism seemed to be necessary for their friendship to sparkle - Even Stevphen had been closer to the truth than most people thought. "A miniskirt, wasn't it?"  
  
  
  
  
He was faced with a pause, could feel Stephen's mild, flushed embarrassment swirling down the line. "I even shaved my legs," he remarked, before protesting, "That doesn't count, it was for a skit."  
  
"No - Colbert, you liar," Steve laughed, eyes glittering. "The idea of you in a miniskirt was _mentioned_ in a skit. You decided to _do_ it for the after-party."  
  
"Details. You can't complain, you enjoyed it more than anyone." Steve breathed out heavily. There it was. That golden tone of Stephen's, his own dawning realisation that he had been dragged into this again, had reached the moment at which he knew what Stephen wanted from him.  
  
"You didn't call to discuss which of us has had more success with women, Stephen."  
  
"True." Stephen's voice was low, a little rough.  
  
"You've been thinking about...about -"  
  
" - about Second City. About you at Second City." A pause, and a rich chuckle. "About the things you used to do to me at Second City." Steve sighed, not unhappily, entirely unsurprised to feel his underwear tightening as his cock stirred appreciatively, a million memories suddenly in his head. He cleared his throat, shaking his head a little in an attempt to gather himself.  
  
"Stephen -"  
  
" - I have my hand around my cock."  
  
" _Shit!_ " Steve breathed, closing his eyes, body jerking with the unexpected thrill of Stephen's words. He groaned helplessly as Stephen continued, feeling his legs part naturally.  
  
"I'm so hard, Steve, god...Jon was talking about it before the throw, and I almost lost it." Steve brushed a hand over his thigh, lightly, almost innocently, as Stephen groaned down the line. "I couldn't - can't - stop thinking about everything we've done before...I had to host the Report half-hard, Steve!"  
  
"Jesus, Stephen," Steve moaned softly, his hand clinging tightly to the soft leather of the couch. "What the hell do you want _me_ to do about it? I can hardly -"  
  
" - touch yourself for me," Stephen said softly, his breathing heavy and erratic. "Please, Steve. I want to hear you...want to hear how you sound when it gets too much for you..."  
  
  
  
  
Steve moaned with Stephen's words, his hand skirting the waistband of his underwear yet unwilling to dip inside. Nancy was waiting upstairs for him. She or, god forbid, one of his children could walk in and catch him. Stephen was being so fucking presumptuous, more to the point. "Stephen...you can't just call me up like this..." Stephen sighed, his voice breathy down the phone.  
  
"My hand is wrapped around my cock," he murmured in relentless reply, breath hitching and sending a jolt of pleasure to Steve's crotch. "Squeezing, just a little, like you do to me."  
  
"...You always did like to be teased," Steve mumbled, hanging his head tiredly. His hand brushed briefly over the firm bulge of his underwear before slipping inside, drawing a hiss from his tight lips. "A-always wanted it gentle, lasting for hours, right?"  
  
"Good boy," Stephen replied, wicked glee thick in his voice. "Jesus, yes, I wanted it to last, with you."  
  
"But you were always ready to let me fuck you in a moment's notice, you little whore," Steve said in a low voice, his hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing his length firmly as his head tipped back. His eyes squeezed tightly shut, as if to deny the reality of what was happening outside of his own head. "Remember when I caught you backstage after rehearsals?"  
  
"Fuck yes, you wouldn't let me go 'til I sucked you off," Stephen groaned, his breathing unsteady. "Dragged me right into the middle of the stage...you fucking asshole."  
  
"I don't remember you complaining. Not _too_ much," Steve laughed, breathless as he swirled his thumb around the tip of of prick, gasping. "That pretty mouth of yours looks good when you whine, anyway."  
  
"A-anyone could have caught us!"  
  
"You'd have loved it," Steve purred, finding himself dropping easily into his old role, teasing and encouraging, helpless to resist Stephen's cocky temptation. "You were such an exhibitionist."  
  
"Fucking liar," Stephen groaned, evidently nearing the close, voice in a near-whimper. "N-never wanted anybody to _see_ -"  
  
" - Paul saw." Steve laughed as Stephen gasped, feeling his crotch tighten deliciously with the weak noise, his own breathing speeding.  
  
"Wh-what...Paul?" Stephen managed in a strangled voice, obviously trying hold on for as long as possible. "Never...n-never saw -"  
  
" - he watched us, y-yeah," Steve moaned, unaware of the huge smirk on his face. "That, that time. He was b-backstage."  
  
"Fuck, _Steve_!" Steve grinned to hear the desperation in Stephen's voice, drawing his legs across the couch to lie back, squeezing himself firmly and moaning softly at the memory of Paul's heated eyes boring into them as he pressed Stephen down to his knees. The exhilaration of that moment flooded back to him, overwhelming his senses with the feeling of being seen, and not caring, revelling in it. Stephen was apparently feeling this rush for the first time, over ten years later. "F-fuckin' liar, y'gotta be!"  
  
"He got himself off, watching us," Steve teased, groaning as Stephen gasped, this obviously proving too much for him. Steve's hand sped over his own silky flesh as Stephen's stifled noises flowed down the phone. Normally so vocal, Stephen was muffling himself, evidently afraid of waking his household, and the gagging effect shot straight to Steve's cock. But what finally sent him tumbling towards the finish were the weak, gasping breaths that followed Stephen's climax. Steve could easily picture him sprawled across his own sofa, loose limbs splayed in that gangly way he had, tired and debauched. He groaned softly as he came, palm fisted around himself, body tight and slowly relaxing.  
  
  
  
  
A long pause flowed between them as both men got their breath, Steve's rapid chest movements settling into the usual slow rise-and-fall. He sighed at the sticky mess over his hand and stomach, cynically wondering how he found it impossible to resist his friend despite so many years of happy marriage. Thank Christ Nancy was open-minded.  
  
"Have I ever told you how much of an asshole you are?" he sighed down the phone, awkwardly stumbling on jellied legs to find a tissue, sighing in frustration as he noticed spots of semen on a couch cushion.  
  
"Shut up, you love it. Besides, Jon did _say_ I could always seal the deal," Stephen murmured easily, sounding relaxed with a hint of smugness. "I just had to prove it. Did Paul really watch us, that time?"  
  
"Mmhmm," Steve mumbled vaguely, screwing up his sticky tissue and using it to dab at the stained couch, cursing under his breath.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't _he_ tell me?"  
  
"The time never seemed right," Steve shrugged, yawning and abandoning his task. He could easily wash the cushion tomorrow. "You can't exactly drop it into everyday conversation. Thought I'd save it until an opportune moment."  
  
"Like in the middle of phone sex?" Stephen asked, an amused chuckle in his worn voice. Steve grinned tiredly, running a hand through wild hair.  
  
"Hey, it got you off," he pointed out, glancing at the clock and wincing at the lateness. "I have to go, Stephen, I should be in bed."  
  
"Sure. Sorry I took up your time," Stephen replied, his voice warm despite his cheeky insincerity. "Goodnight."  
  
  
  
  
A few moments later, Steve climbed into bed beside Nancy, giving her a sheepish half-smile as she looked up from her book with a cocked eyebrow. "Don't you just hate it when you can't get rid of -"  
  
" - how's Stephen?" she asked casually, smirking when Steve gaped at her in obvious bewilderment, incapable of hiding his surprise. He stammered through his shock, cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment.  
  
"How do you know...?"  
  
"I saw. I can't blame you for being too distracted to notice me, you were saying some pretty filthy things," Nancy smiled sweetly in response, setting aside her book and noting with interest how strawberry-red her husband could turn. "Plus you had your hand down your pants, of course." Steve coughed, hung his head sheepishly and wondered how the hell to explain himself.  
  
"Honey...I'm sorry, you know how relentless he is..." he tried, to a supremely unimpressed expression.  
  
"Mmhmm."  
  
"And I _meant_ to say goodbye and come right up here...shit, you wanted us to - I'm sorry," Steve mumbled, abashed. He settled his hand over hers, stroking encouragingly with his thumb and lowering his voice. "If you want, I'm sure I could...you know...again...?" He grinned as she leaned closer, brushing her lips over his as a hopeful smile spread across his face  
  
"I think not. I took matters into my own hands," she smirked, nodding in satisfaction as Steve's face fell. She leaned away and settled down comfortably in their bed, talking to him over her shoulder. "Oh, and if you think you're getting away with this, you're mistaken. I hope you enjoyed your little session," she grinned. "Because you're not getting anything like it from me for a long, _long_ time."  
  
Steve took a long time getting to sleep, that night. He spent all his frustrated waking moments planning precisely what he was going to do to Stephen, next time they met.


End file.
